Like Father Like Son
by Witherwings01
Summary: A response to an 'I Never' challenge at 'The Teachers' Lounge'. Hugo can't sleep the night before his first trip to Hogwarts.


_A/N – To my regular readers who are all about the Harmony, you may not wish to read any further as this is a story set within (god...I can hardly say it) canon pairings. _

_To explain, I still very much ship H/Hr, however this is in response to a challenge from my friends over at 'The Teachers' Lounge' who felt that my troubles with Chapter Twenty Two of 'Needs' might be overcome by writing something completely different. Hence this is an 'I Never' one shot, as in 'I have never written about Ron Weasley's canon family before'._

_Disclaimer: Insert witty and/or funny comment about not owning Potter here..._

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><p><strong>Like Father, Like Son<strong>

_**1st September 2019**_

The creak of the top step directly outside his bedroom door sent Ron Weasley groping for his wand before his mind could even register the fact that his brain had sent the signal for his right hand to do so.

Palming the familiar shaft, years of ingrained auror training kicked in and Ron lit the tip with a silent _Lumos_ and levelled it towards the open door.

_Hugo? _he mouthed as he recognised the familiar figure of his only son illuminated in the eerie glow of his wand light.

Like a rabbit caught in the headlights of Ron's beloved classic British sports car (a vehicle Hermione had mercilessly teased him about – the term mid-life crisis having been applied more than once), Hugo was rooted to the spot, one foot frozen in mid-stride stride over the offending step, his shoulders slightly hunched and his eyes half shut in the manner of someone who wished for nothing more than the ability to reverse time so as to remember to skip the top step.

"Sorry, Dad," he whispered, turning his head towards the light, his eyes narrowing in the bright beam. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Not wishing to wake his sleeping wife - for although she would ever admit it, Ron knew Hermione was finding her third pregnancy much more of a chore than those in her twenties - Ron lowered his wand, slipped out of bed and padded to the hallway, shrugging into his dressing gown as he simultaneously pulled the bedroom door closed behind him with a soft click.

"Everything all right Huey?" he asked, his voice slightly raspy from disuse.

Hugo shrugged, but made no comment on his fathers use of the nickname he often protested he had grown out of. "Couldn't sleep, I guess."

"First day nerves?" asked Ron. "Your mother was just the same at your age."

When his reminiscing failed to garner a response, Ron wrapped his arm around Hugo's shoulder. "Come on," he said steering him past the creaking floorboard to descend the stairs, "let's get you some warm milk."

Entering the comfortable kitchen, Ron guided Hugo to one of the stools by the breakfast bar before making his way to the magically cooled refrigerator to retrieve the milk. Pouring it into a pan, Ron absent mindedly stirred and heated the liquid with his wand as he regarded his obviously troubled eleven year old.

In truth he had been planning on having a much needed chat with his son first thing that morning - he had been growing steadily quieter and more withdrawn as the first of September drew closer.

_Just not in the middle of the night! _he thought letting out a little mental groan as his eyes registered the time on the clock above the door as a being just a few minutes before two in the morning. _Well good practise for the new baby,_ he decided with a wry grin.

"So what's on your mind?" he asked as he poured the now pipping hot beverage into a mug and slid it across the counter to Hugo.

For a moment it appeared that Hugo would not answer, his gaze instead riveted on the tendrils of steam emanating from his drink. "I - I don't think I can do this, Dad," he began falteringly. "I mean, Rosie's popular, first choice quidditch keeper, and top of her classes to boot!" The youngest member of the Weasley clan ticked each point off against a finger. " How am I supposed to compete with that?" he added in a small voice.

That was definitely not the answer Ron had been expected to hear and he felt his eyebrow reach for the ceiling involuntarily - a habit he had evidently picked up from his wife.

"I know," said Hugo misconstruing his Father's expression. "What kind of person am I if I can't be pleased for my own sister? But I..." Hugo allowed his sentence to trail away and he fell silent, apparently unable to find the words to express himself.

Ron consciously lowered his arched brow and regarded his son in silence for a moment. He had of course recognised that his son wasn't exactly himself over the last week or so, but he had presumed that his mood shift was motivated by the same anxieties any eleven year old would have in leaving home for the first time. But to hear his son express precisely the same inner demons that tormented him throughout his own school days came as something as a shock to Ron Weasley - he had always believed Hugo had taken more after his mother than he. _Looks like I couldn't have been more wrong._

"It makes you exactly the same as every other younger sibling throughout history," Ron replied at length. "You're setting out on a great adventure, so it's only natural you want to cut out your own little niche. You know, succeed where others in the family haven't ... "

Hugo said nothing, but Ron was certain he saw a flicker of something in his son's blue eyes that he took to mean that he wasn't completely off base.

" ... Your problem is that your sister is so just damned gifted at everything you don't feel like there's any room left for you."

The flicker Ron had seen before bloomed before his eyes. "That's it!" exclaimed Hugo, the gratitude that someone understood his feelings evident in his tone. "How did you know?"

"You can't have forgotten I'm the youngest of six boys," Ron teased. "You remember your uncles, right? Rowdy lot, red hair, cant miss 'em..."

Gratified to see the broad grin which creased his son's features, Ron pressed his point.

"I felt exactly the same when I was at school. I didn't think I could ever be good enough to live up to my brothers reputations. Bill was smart _and_ popular, Charlie was a huge quidditch star, and Percy was easily the most academic. That left the twins to be the life of the party, and me...well I didn't feel like I fitted anywhere."

Hugo's expressive brow pinched together in thought. "But - but your a great wizard," he said after a moment. "Right up there with uncle Harry, Mum says."

Ron felt the blush rising up his neck at his wife's compliment. "Now perhaps," he conceded, "but back then I didn't think I was good enough so I didn't try. I wasn't much of a student. Merlin, sometimes I was so jealous I wasn't much of a friend either," he added thinking back to all the times he had envied his best friends fame and fortune.

"So what changed?" asked Hugo, his drink now forgotten on the counter.

"Your mother," replied Ron honestly, unable to keep the soft smile from gracing his lips as he thought of the love of his life hopefully still sound asleep upstairs.

Hugo's lips parted, presumably to pose another question, but, struck by a sudden inspiration, Ron pushed up from his own stool and made his way to the bureau which stood in the far corner of The Warren's large kitchen.

"When I finally got it through my thick skull that there were people who loved me and cared for me regardless of what I achieved," he explained as he riffled through the untidy cubby which Hermione often described as his 'man draw'. "none of what I thought I wanted seemed to matter any more," he concluded, pulling a small roughly rectangular silver box from the bowels of the cabinet.

Padding back across the cool stone tiles of the kitchen, Ron set the magical device on the worktop.

"What is it?" Hugo wanted to know.

"It's how I found you mother during the war," Ron replied, knowing his son would have no idea of the truth behind the both literal and metaphorical interpretations of his statement. "It's called a Deluminator," he continued and he smoothly picked up the device, flipped open it's cap and pressed the button.

Hugo's eyes widened in amazement as every light in the kitchen was immediately pulled from it's source and into the device leaving him blinking in an attempt to force his eyes to adjust to the now almost complete darkness. "That's even better than Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder!" he exclaimed as a second click sounded and the balls of light flew back to their rightful positions.

"Not bad, eh? Dumbledore left it to me in his will," explained Ron before adding. "But that's not the best part."

By way of explanation Ron closed his eyes and thought of nothing but the image of Hermione's face before once more pressing the button. This time a small sphere of blue light appeared from the Deluminator and hovered a chest height a few feet away.

"If I step into that," said Ron gesturing the magical energy, "I'll be transported to wherever the things I most treasure are." He clicked the bottom again and the blue light disappeared. "But as all my treasures are right here," he continued, "I want you to have it," and he held the Deluminator in his open palm.

Hugo appeared speechless and didn't make any move to retrieve the object from his fathers palm.

"I was going to give it to you when you came of age anyway," said Ron, manually opening his son's fingers and placing the silver box into his hand. "Just remember," continued Ron after a brief, but not uncomfortable silence, "we'll love you no matter what. But if your ever worried that even your best isn't good enough, just use the Deluminator and it will bring you straight to me or your Mum.

"Just not when you're supposed to be in class," he quickly amended knowing exactly what he would have done as an eleven year old with a foolproof way to get out of the castle.

"Thanks, Dad," mumbled Hugo, his eyes shifting quickly between his new prized possession and his fathers eyes.

No words were needed and Ron pulled his son into a hug, which, he noted with no small amount of joy, his pre-teen did not squirm away from it as he would have normally done.

Holding the embrace for a few moments, Ron released Hugo, tactfully looking the other way when he noticed the moisture brimming in his son's blue eyes that were so like his own.

"Now come on you," he joked, knowing at that moment that his work was done for the night. "To bed with you. Professor McGonagall will have my hide if you're falling asleep in your first classes."

oOo

Two minutes later, and being careful to avoid the creaking step, both Father and Son were back in bed.

"Everything all right?" whispered Hermione softly as Ron settled himself back on his now blissfully cool pillows.

"Yeah," he replied, confident that everything was just that. "Just man stuff."

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><p><em>Review on your way out if you fancy. <em>

_Till next time peeps..._


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